Orgy XIII
by Naive-Symphony
Summary: Collaboration with City Girl Dreamer. A series of unrelated one-shots with various pairings from Organization XIII. Pairings are random, so expect the unexpected. Ratings vary from K - M. Things are gonna get a little crazy in here, folks.
1. Porcelain

**Disclaimer:** Neither Naive-Symphony nor City Girl Dreamer own Kingdom Hearts (though we'd like to).

**Author's Note:** Welcome welcome to Orgy XIII! This assortment of stories will be a collaboration between yours truly and the lovely **City Girl Dreamer**. The two of us will be alternating chapters for this fic; I'll have the odd-numbered ones (because I'm odd) and she will be writing the even-numbered ones. This story is actually a series of unrelated one-shots, pairing up random members of Organization XIII for some crazy crack pairing fun! There will be smut, fluff, drama, angst, and everything in-between. Ratings will range from K to M, so we're just gonna rate the story as M to protect the younguns from the more explicit chapters. Expect the unexpected people, because even we don't know how these chapters are going to turn out or how long this is gonna last. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the show ladies and gentlemen!

**Warning: **Most of the pairings will be boy/boy, as there is only one female member of Organization XIII. So basically if that freaks you out, read no more. No, we are not going to be using Xion. However, you might see Namine pop up in a few of these stories. Let the chaos ensue!

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**Chapter 1: **Porcelain

**Pairing:** Xaldin/Roxas

**Rating:** M

**Author:** Naive-Symphony

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The hollow sound of footfalls reverberated throughout an empty hallway in the castle that loomed over The World that Never Was. A lone cloaked figure was slowly advancing down a long foyer, no particular destination in mind. His long, black strands of hair trailed behind him, as if dancing in some invisible breeze.

Xaldin, or "The Whirlwind Lancer" as the Superior had dubbed him upon his entrance into the Organization as No. III, was simply walking. No real goal or motive to this action, he was simply… walking. No worries raced through his head, no emotions twisting his thoughts, as he was a Nobody; a creature without a heart.

The black-clad man continued his meaningless stroll, only appearing alive due to his constant motion forward. His face revealed no emotion, no clues as to what could have been swimming through his dark mind. Had a normal person, that is, a person with a heart been performing the same action, one might have guessed that they were simply bored. However, when the most neutral shade of blank is the normal facial expression for one without a heart, this was hardly an uncommon sight. Nothing to feel, nothing to express.

Suddenly, a second pair of footsteps was heard; faint at first, but slowly beginning to crescendo as Xaldin continued forward. If he was curious about the added noise, he did not show it. Perhaps Nobodies simply did not feel curious.

The owner of the second pair of feet could have been anywhere nearby. The castle was so empty and quiet that even the slightest noise could be heard resounding throughout the lifeless halls. As each set of footfalls clashed off-tempo from the other, the owner of the second pair was finally revealed. A second figure in black appeared at the opposite end of the hallway from Xaldin, walking towards him. He was much smaller than the hall's first occupant, this becoming increasingly obvious as the two bodies came closer together. The hood of the Organization's long, black cloak was resting on the boy's back as he slowly continued his own aimless stroll. Xaldin's eyes shifted to appraise the newcomer. The boy's hair was short and choppy, almost appearing windblown. This simple fact was something that III always took into consideration upon seeing the boy. The color of the smaller male's hair was a dark blonde that complemented his fair skin beautifully. The most appealing of the boy's features however were his shockingly bright blue eyes. Xaldin's lips curved upward into a slow sneer as he drew closer to the smaller Nobody.

Roxas. The Key of Destiny. No. XIII.

Just as the two of them were about to cross paths, they each stopped. Roxas looked up at his elder; blue eyes quietly appraising the other man. He let out a shaky breath as he let his eyes fall upon the sly smirk that had spread itself onto Xaldin's face. If one were to observe this encounter from a third person's perspective, they might suspect one feeling in particular; fear. But Nobodies could not feel fear, so what was it that caused those bright blue eyes to widen so? What was it that made the smaller boy's lip quiver? Xaldin continued to stare down maliciously at The Key of Destiny. After a long moment, he slowly parted his lips and spoke.

"XIII," he stated calmly, voice smoothly cutting through the silence.

Roxas exhaled shakily. "Xaldin," he responded, almost inaudible.

Xaldin's lip curled, revealing his teeth. He was amused by how quickly he had evoked a reaction in the boy. If he didn't know better, he would say that this feeling was… delight? He seemed to be experiencing some sort of remembrance of delight as he surveyed the small boy standing before him.

Xaldin reached one gloved hand forward and cupped the boy's cheek tenderly. Roxas shied away from the touch, but not enough to escape it completely. Xaldin's thumb stroked small circles across the smooth skin as his face remained unchanging.

Roxas' eyelids slowly came down to cover his soft blue eyes as he reveled in the gentle caress of his superior. Lips slightly parted, his breaths were coming out faster; his cheeks tainted with a slight blush. Xaldin's smirk widened as he further gauged the younger Nobody's reaction.

This boy… he was so… pure.

So… delicate.

So… _breakable_.

A fire had appeared in the deep violet eyes, but the calm demeanor of the beholder remained unchanged. Xaldin's gentle caresses continued, however his hand had begun to extend its domain. He traced the contours of the boy's ear, ran fingers through the silky blonde locks, trailed teasing fingers down a pale throat. Roxas gulped, opening hazy eyes to focus upon the taller man once more.

Xaldin cocked his head to the side, continuing his ministrations. "So beautiful," he said softly, almost in a whisper. He brought his other hand up to the boys face, allowing a second set of gloved fingers to join their counterparts in exploring the delicate features of the cherubic face. "Like a porcelain doll."

Bright blue eyes looked up at him innocently. They were marvelously untainted. How was it that something so unsoiled and virginal could be a denizen of the darkness? Roxas truly was an angel among devils. Xaldin licked his lips, watching the smaller boy's eyes follow his tongue's every movement. He felt it again, that unusual sensation; delight.

Roxas was so clean and untouched. He radiated innocent beauty.

And Xaldin wanted nothing more than to break him. The thought filled him with sadistic joy.

He wanted to hear that pretty mouth scream in agony, watch as his translucent eyes welled up with tears, feel his body shudder from unyielding pain. A shiver ran though Xaldin's spine, causing him to smile in what felt distinctly like pleasure. He was going to make this fragile little creature shatter, and he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

Continuing his exploration of the boy, Xaldin guided the two of them towards the wall. Roxas had begun panting even heavier than before, too captivated by the taller man to even consider escape. Pressing the smaller body firmly against the vertical surface, Xaldin lowered his head until his lips barely brushed against a delicate earlobe. "I don't play very gently with my toys," Xaldin whispered before biting down roughly on the boy's ear. The silence that had hung over them was immediately shattered as Roxas cried out in pain. Almost instantaneously, Xaldin opened a dark portal in the wall behind them and pushed Roxas forcefully through.

Less than a second later the two had entered a dark room; No. III's bedroom. Roxas had stumbled backwards, but was caught when Xaldin reached forward and grabbed his wrists, pulling the smaller boy flush against him once more. The older man crashed his lips into those of his prey, silencing any noise that the blonde had been making. Roxas opened his mouth to protest, but Xaldin merely took the opportunity to forcefully shove his tongue into the vulnerable opening, ravishing the soft, delicate cavity. He brutally kissed the boy, tongue and teeth overtaking the smaller mouth. Roxas groaned quietly; whether it was out of pain or pleasure was unknown. Xaldin held the boy's hands firmly above his head, slowly removing the gloves from the smaller hands. Tossing them to the floor, he brought his slender fingers towards the blonde's head and proceeded to knead them through the soft, golden locks.

Xaldin's fingers, which had been delicately tangled in the boy's beautiful hair, had suddenly threaded roughly through the strands and painfully held Roxas' head in place, moving only to push the boy closer to his attacker. Tears began to form at the corner of the younger boy's eyes after having his hair yanked so hard. Xaldin looked down at his handiwork and smiled, trailing his tongue across the pale skin and collecting the tears. More… he wanted _more_.

Roxas' head was pulled back forcefully, exposing his neck to the domineering mouth of his superior. He let out a quiet hiss of pain, but couldn't refrain from moaning softly as sharp teeth bit at the tender flesh of his throat. Long, laborious strokes from the older man's tongue quickly followed to taste the delicate skin. Xaldin smiled against the boy's neck before biting roughly on a delicate clavicle. Roxas cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he felt warm fluid seeping out from underneath his collar. Blood.

As his mouth continued to devour the smaller Nobody's neck, Xaldin's hands began to roughly grope at the fragile body pressed against him. Shoulders. Ribs. Chest. Waist. Ass. The boy was so soft. Deciding that clothed touches were not enough, Xaldin quickly disposed of his own gloves. He ripped open the long black cloak covering Roxas' body and continued his ministrations against bare skin. Roxas' face flushed with embarrassment as his coat fell to the floor in pieces. He was now standing before this man, one of his superiors, half-naked. He clumsily tried to cover himself, but his hands were immediately torn away from his exposed chest by greedy fingers.

Roxas had barely noticed that he had been progressively pushed backwards until the backs of his knees came into contact with the cool sheets of a single bed. He almost fell onto the surface, but immediately caught himself. However he was only on his feet for a minute longer until Xaldin forcibly shoved the small boy onto the mattress and hastily climbed over him, removing his own cloak in the process.

Once he had regained his composure after being pushed so roughly, Roxas began to panic. He was trapped underneath Xaldin's body, wrists being held over his head as the dark haired man's ministrations on his neck grew more painful. As the gravity of the situation began to truly sink in, Roxas began to wriggle back and forth in a futile attempt to free himself.

"Get off of me! Gah!" he exclaimed, struggling to relinquish himself from the other man's grasp. Xaldin ceased his aggressive assault on the boy temporarily to raise his body and simply watch him squirm. The dark-haired Nobody's face contorted into a maniacal grin as he watched Roxas try to escape. The boy was getting absolutely nowhere, his physical strength nowhere near the same level as Xaldin's. The Lancer simply threw back his head and laughed. Roxas' actions immediately came to a halt as the terrifying noise erupted from the larger man's throat. His laugh was deep and loud, hinting at sadistic pleasure. The noise made the boy shiver out of cold terror, and he knew that there was no way he was going to escape until Xaldin got what he wanted. Xaldin knew that Roxas couldn't get away. He knew that he could do whatever he pleased with the boy. As this knowledge settled deeper into Roxas' mind, he grew completely still and simply stared at his captor with wide eyes.

He was trapped.

Xaldin brought his head back down and slowly towards his prey. His lips rested merely inches from a soft earlobe as he whispered, "Try as you may, you cannot run from me my little doll." Roxas visibly shivered at these words, closing his eyes forcefully and whimpering. Perhaps he would wake from this and it would all be a bad dream. Maybe this was all just a horrid nightmare. He shouldn't have stopped to greet the intimidating man in the hallway earlier; he should have just kept walking.

Should have, but didn't. Roxas internally cursed himself for submitting to his superior's compassionate pretense. Silly him for forgetting that Nobodies can't feel compassion, or perhaps just temporarily hoping that he was wrong.

Slowly, Xaldin ghosted his fingers across the boy's chest, marveling at the flawless skin. It was beautiful, like an untouched canvas, but canvases are not meant to remain blank. Roxas gasped as he felt a sharp pain trailing across his chest. He opened his eyes hesitantly and gazed at his body to see long fingernails carving a delicate pattern in his skin. Xaldin was completely enraptured in what he was doing as he continued to draw across Roxas' pale chest. Small droplets of blood bubbled at the surface of many of the shallow wounds, some growing too large and sliding off of Roxas' raised chest, trailing their crimson stain as they journeyed down his sides and onto the sheets below. The blonde winced with each fresh cut, while his captor simply stared in awe.

"Beautiful," Xaldin breathed out, watching his masterpiece unfold beneath his fingertips. He lowered his mouth to taste the living design, reveling in its flavor. He raised his head and closed his eyes in what looked distinctly like pleasure, trails of red tainting his parted lips. Roxas just watched in horror, unable to move save for his heavy breathing. As Xaldin slowly raised his eyelids, he gave his captive a hungry glare. This was proving to be even more thrilling than he could have ever imagined. He lowered his hands to the boy's long black pants, finding the zipper and undoing them slowly. As he removed the garment completely he slipped off the smaller Nobody's boots as well, sending everything crashing to the floor. Roxas lay beneath him in nothing but a pair of dark blue boxers. Tears returned to the smaller boy's eyes as he once again realized the inevitability of the situation. Xaldin left these droplets of moisture in their place, as he had more interesting matters to attend to.

As Xaldin reached down to remove the last article of clothing covering Roxas' body, the small boy whimpered, barely audible. "P-please. Please Xaldin, d-don't," he stuttered between sobs. His whole body was shaking violently. Xaldin stopped for a moment and smiled sweetly down at his toy. For a moment, Roxas thought that perhaps the Lancer had indeed decided to take pity on him and desist. This notion was quickly tossed aside however when Xaldin's expression morphed into one of absolutely cruel intent as he roughly removed the boy's undergarments, ripping them from his body and tossing them carelessly aside.

Roxas began crying again, soft sobs the only noise that filled the room. Xaldin surveyed the naked body that was laid out before him, hands exploring every inch. His eyes were glazed over in a look of silent wonder as he continued touching the boy. He had truly never seen something so pure in his entire life. This body was so clean. He began to quiver with excitement knowing that he would be the one to forever soil this delicate flower. He was going to further tarnish that perfect, porcelain skin.

Xaldin brought his lips down to the boy's steadily rising and falling chest, trailing his tongue across the skin once more. He led a trail of saliva to a dusty pink nipple, surrounding it with his mouth and smirked at the gasp that escaped from the small boy's lips. Xaldin toyed with the small nub briefly before biting down roughly on the tender skin. Roxas let out a reluctant scream as the blood began to flow from the newly formed wound. Xaldin began laughing delightedly once more, voice tainted with sadistic pleasure as he began to bite roughly on the tender skin around the boy's ribcage. He continued his journey southward, laughing and biting, reveling in each new sound that tore itself from the blonde's lips. He sucked away at the red fluid that spilled from the fresh wounds, enjoying the metallic taste of the boy's pain. Small bruises and cuts were slowly darkening all over Roxas' body, one for each ruthless bite left by the terrifying Lancer. Xaldin was marking Roxas, putting his name down as the one who dirtied the beautiful creature.

As his lips neared the juncture between Roxas' groin and thigh, Xaldin heard the exhale that rapidly passed between the boy's lips. Roxas gritted his teeth, utterly disgusted with himself for being even slightly turned on by the evil man. Still, with Xaldin's hot breath ghosting across Roxas' now slightly erect member, he couldn't contain himself. Another moan slipped past his lips as Xaldin smirked against his sensitive skin once more. Roxas hoped, if only faintly, that perhaps the man would relieve him of this growing pressure in his lower abdomen and just leave it at that. Unfortunately, his hopes were dashed once more. Xaldin's lips found the tender flesh of Roxas' inner thigh and bit down hard. Roxas threw his head back and cried out in agony as he choked out another sob. The excruciating pain paired with the now uncomfortable arousal was causing the tears to leak from his gentle blue eyes once more.

Xaldin lifted himself up to watch the boy crumbling beneath him. He stared with an amused smile for a few moments as the boy silently sobbed, face turned sideways in an attempt to somehow get as far from his captor as was physically possible. Xaldin's eyes explored every corner of the boy, taking in each and every fresh wound that littered the small body, smiling with what seemed like delight at each one. As he watched his pretty little doll quivering and sobbing beneath him, he decided that he was going to end the tortuously slow games here. Watching the boy and touching the boy had only been feeding the ever growing arousal pooling in his stomach. Xaldin winced, realizing his pants had become painfully tight and hastily relieved himself of the problem. Once his final items of clothing had been stripped of his body, Xaldin looked down at Roxas with new fervor. He was hungry, Roxas was vulnerable, and he was through with waiting for what he really wanted.

The blonde let out a surprised gasp as he was roughly flipped over until his stomach was pressing into the hard mattress. He began to hyperventilate. Eyes wide, he struggled, flailing his limbs in one last attempt to break free, but Xaldin had already pinned the boy's wrists to the bed and planted his legs on Roxas' slender ones for the time being. Panting, Xaldin leaned forward to trail his tongue sloppily across the back of his captive's neck, biting down once more and releasing a strangled cry from the blonde.

"I've enjoyed playing with you my pet. Now, let's end these little games," Xaldin crooned as he slid one hand underneath Roxas and placed it on his stomach. He lifted so that the boy's rear was raised before bringing both hands to grip firmly on Roxas' slender hips. He lifted his legs from atop the smaller Nobody's trembling limbs and crept forward on his knees. Xaldin no longer had to worry about his captive trying to escape; he was already on the verge of breaking.

Without warning Xaldin's hips thrust forward as he roughly entered the smaller Nobody. Screaming in agony, Roxas' hands clawed at the sheets as newly formed tears began to spill from his eyes again. Grunting, Xaldin pulled back out and thrust into the boy again, and again, and again. Roxas grit his teeth and pressed his head into the mattress as he was painfully taken from behind. He could feel trickles of blood trailing from his formerly virgin opening and down his shaking legs. If Xaldin noticed this, he showed no signs. The man was ravenous, pounding into the boy's tight entrance.

Roxas' head was swimming, but at the same time it felt as if it was completely blank. There were so many thoughts that were raging through his head right now, but at the same time he wanted to clear his mind and remove himself from the traumatizing situation completely. Eyes closed, Roxas hoped for some sort of out of body experience; anything that could distract him from the horrendous pain and emotional trauma he was enduring.

Picking up his pace, Xaldin continued his violent thrusts into Roxas' tender ass. His body was coated in a thin layer of sweat, causing many strands of his long black hair to stick to his back. His hands gripped painfully onto the boy's waist, pressure sure to leave bruises and long nails digging into the skin and spilling fresh blood onto Xaldin's hands. Unrelenting, he continued violently raping the blonde, sweat from his hands seeping into the wound and stinging the previously unexposed flesh. Roxas did not cry out, he did not even seem to acknowledge the new pain. To him, it was only more agony added onto what was already a large amount of agony. He felt himself growing numb to Xaldin's violent actions, but at the same time he could still feel the hurt rip through him every time the man thrust into him. Roxas merely continued to grip the sheets beneath him and bury his head as the bed rocked violently against the wall.

Suddenly something incredibly sensitive was stuck within Roxas, causing him to scream again, voice cracking. Xaldin had pierced something incredibly tender within him, and it hurt more than anything he had done up until then. Roxas felt himself grow hard as this certain spot was struck again and again. He was confused as to why his body was reacting in that way when he was experiencing such pain. There was no pleasure gained from Xaldin pounding into the newly found sensitive area deep within him, but for some reason Roxas' body acted as if being struck there was the greatest pleasure imaginable. The uncomfortable sensation of a rising orgasm brought nothing but more pain to Roxas' ravished body. Had this been a more pleasant experience, had he actually wanted to have sex with this man, perhaps Roxas would have been pleasured by the incessant attacks upon his most sensitive area and his approaching release. However it only proceeded to cause him more anguish.

Nearing completion, Xaldin's thrusts became erratic and even more forceful than before. The sickening sound of skin slapping against skin coupled with the frantic grunts of the aggressor and the shaky sobs of the captive formed a twisted sort of symphony in the dark room. The stench of sweat and sex mingled with the metallic smell of fresh blood, causing the blonde to feel even more nauseous than he had already.

Although Roxas' body had decided to become mildly aroused by Xaldin's forceful actions, he knew he was nowhere near his climax; especially compared to the man behind him. The elder Nobody began to groan as his thrusts fell off-tempo from his previous tirade. With a strangled groan, Xaldin came heavily into Roxas' abused body, white fluid leaking from between the boy's legs as the older man finished.

Chest heaving, Xaldin pulled out and shakily lifted himself from the bed. He turned to look down upon the blonde boy lying motionless on the bed. Still panting, a small smile curved onto the man's lips as he gazed down at his handiwork. Roxas turned to face the wall and pulled his knees up to his chest. Glassy blue eyes stared blankly at the plain wall as he breathed slow and evenly. Dried tears left trails across his pale cheeks that glistened in the moonlight as it fell through the small window above the bed. Flecks and paths of dried blood were scattered across his entire body, mixing with dried cum where it leaked out from between his legs.

Xaldin chuckled darkly before turning towards his bathroom, deciding that he wanted a shower to clean himself off. As he closed the door behind him he broke into a fit of laughter once more. He was pleased with himself, he had done it.

The boy was broken.

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Wow, hope I didn't scare all of you away with that one. I promise there will be happier stories to follow (and also some more sad ones *hides*).

~ NS


	2. Pink Kiss

**Disclaimer: **Neither City Girl Dreamer nor Naive-Symphony own Kingdom Hearts (but we're working on it).

**Author's Note:** This is Naive-Symphony reporting live from my shitty apartment! Really though, I'm only here for the announcements portion. This chapter belongs entirely to City Girl Dreamer, as we are alternating chapters in this nutty story. Please, _please_ give credit where credit is due and send her your praise for this chapter. I did nothing except for upload it and add this goofy author's note. I hope you enjoy her chapter! I sure did! Please support the author and check out her other stuff too! You won't be disappointed! :)

**Warning: **Boy/boy, yaoi, manlove, whatever you wanna call it, it's here. So if this bothers you at all then I suggest you quit reading. If not, then forward march!

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**Chapter 2:** Pink Kiss

**Pairing: **Marluxia/Zexion

**Rating: **K

**Author: **City Girl Dreamer

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There were three things wrong with this situation.

1) The hair dye he had tried out was definitely not blonde.

2) The hair dye was actually pink...and not the manly kind of pink either. It was more of the bubble-gum type of pink, verging on baby-pink and...it was just pink.

3) Because of said hair dye, that had now turned his hair pink, everyone was staring at him like he was some sort of freak show. The worst part was that HE was staring at him.

Normally Marluxia wouldn't mind it if _he_ was staring at him...but today was just a bad day to be stared at. His hair was pink and he was pretty sure his face was now the same colour. Seriously, it _had_ to be today of all days he _finally_ gained the attention of...

Him.

Marluxia was not vain...okay...he was majorally vain. He was so vain, he had a degree in the very subject of being vain. Because of this little 'flaw' of his, he refused to let his new hair colour ruin his reputation. Instead he worked it...he strode down those halls, hands on hips and strutted.

He was no longer Marluxia The Student, but Marluxia The World Class Model.

Thousands of lights flashed as he sauntered down his catwalk, spectators nodded their approval and a few even wolf whistled at him. Oh yes, he was the king when it came to working his style and he was going to make pink hair the newest fashion craze!

Oh...and what do we have here? A sexy little emo, with beautiful periwinkle hair, gazing lustfully at him with his deep gaze and giving him that oh-so-sexy come hither look...god...he was so...so...

"MARLUXIA!"

He was snapped out his lovely daydream when a pair of fingers clicked in front of him. Marluxia threw Larxene a dirty look, which was returned playfully.

"I've been calling out your name for five minutes now, what daydream were you having this time?"

"Don't exaggerate. It's been two minutes and I wasn't daydreaming!"

Larxene scoffed and linked arms with the male. She led him down the hallway in the direction of their lockers. Honestly, she wasn't stupid! She knew when Marluxia was daydreaming...he would get this far away look in his eyes and he would start sighing and come on! He was blatantly gawking at Zexion and undressing the guy with his eyes.

"So, what was the Emo doing in your head this time?" She asked casually.

Marluxia gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. He really had no idea why he was friends with Larxene...one minute they were English Partners, the next they were linking arms and skipping off home. She did make him laugh though...occasionally.

"Larxene, will you please shut up and bugger off. I have far more important things to do than listen to your ridiculous accusations." He bit out.

She merely giggled and held onto him tighter. Larxene knew a liar when she saw one and boy, was Marluxia a big liar! They stopped by Marluxia's locker, unlinking arms so he could open it up. Larxene leant against the locker next to his and gazed around the hallway with a bored expression. She heard a whimper coming from her friend and glanced at him. He was gazing mournfully at his pink barnet in his mirror, stroking it and pouting childishly.

"Larxene...my hair...it's awful, isn't it?"

The girl snorted and looked away. In the corner of her eye she had spotted Zexion following them...that fact alone had brightened up her day considerably.

"It can't be that awful if _he_ is gawking at you."

"...He? How?"

"Zexion, the 'cute, little ball of depression' that you've taken a liking to. He's gazing at you with interest, with a pinch of hesitation, add in a drop fear, plus a sprinkle of- dare I say it -lust!"

Marluxia snapped his head up and stared at her with disbelief.

"L-Lust? As in lust...lust, lust?"

Larxene clucked her tongue and hit Marluxia upside the head. Her friend was not the brightest crayon in the box...although with that hair she begged to differ.

"Yeah, as in lust, lust. Zexion the Emo has taken a lusty liking to you, Marluxia the Camp Prep."

"Wow...Stereotype much?"

"Dye your hair much?"

"Open your legs much?"

"Look in your mirror much?"

"Jealous much?"

Larxene was about to retort, when the bell cut her off. She settled for a death glare and spun on her heel, storming off down the hallways towards her next class. Marluxia smirked with victory and slammed his locker shut. He then picked up his bag and twirled his hair around his finger. The longer he had it pink, the more he began to like it...it wasn't that bad really. It especially can't be that bad if he had Zexion's attention!

Grinning to himself, he shut his locker and strolled down the hallways in the same direction as the storming girl.

Currently, his life was good.

X-x-X-x-X

During the lesson, Marluxia felt himself falling asleep to the teacher's droning voice. The lecture on Atomic Structures seemed to be going on and on and on...

He was this close to actually nodding off when a piece of paper hit him from behind. Resisting the urge to turn around and strangle a certain blonde girl to death, Marluxia picked up the paper ball and uncrumpled it. There was a small note in Larxene's curly writing.

_Bored much?_

Maluxia gave a short scoff and took up his pen to scribble back his answer.

_Shut up much?_

As soon as he had thrown the ball back to her, another one hit him in the head. Damn...Larxene was a fast writer.

_Come on, you look bored...I don't blame you either...Xemnas is giving us the same lecture for the fourth time now. So...what's on your mind?_

Marluxia briefly pondered on how fast Larxene had written that entire note and also realised that his teacher, Xemnas, had indeed been giving them the same lecture for the fouth time now. He wrote his reply and smirked as he knew what was going to happen next...

_I'm thinking of a person._

_Oh? Is this person a guy or a girl?_

_Guy. Definite guy on my mind._

_Okay...is this guy hawt?_

_Smokin'!_

_LOL! Does this guy have a floppy periwinkle fringe with one eye showing, wears a Coverse with bright green laces?_

_...maybe..._

_Does his name begin with 'Z' and end in 'exion'?_

_...duh._

Larxene let out a short bark of laughter, covering it up with a coughing fit. Marluxia never ceased to entertain her...

The bell then rang out, which signalled the end of their torturous hour of a repeated lecture. Larxene stuffed the note into her bag and walked over to Marluxia, shoving past all the other students wanting to leave.

"Hey Gay, so you were thinking of Zexion all lesson, huh? Funny that...he couldn't stop staring at you all lesson either..." She said shrewdly.

"Larxene. Have you seen my hair...it's kinda impossible not to stare at me." He snapped back as he lifted the bag onto his shoulder.

"Oh come on! So everyone is staring at you with the same lust and desire in their eye, just because you've dyed your hair?"

"...probably. I mean look at me. I look hot in pink and I thi-WAIT! What? He was staring at me with lust? Again? And desire?? Are you sure?"

Larxene rolled her eyes and dragged the giddy pink-haired boy out of the classroom, glaring at anyone who glanced in their way. Well, except Zexion...she winked at him instead. He turned a nice shade of red, bordering on pink, although not as pink as Marluxia's hair, but pink all the same...well...reddish pink anyway.

POINT being is that Zexion blushed. Happy? Good.

So, Larxene was pulling Marluxia all the way down the hallway, when she stopped all of a sudden. This caused Marluxia to bang into her head on, hurting his nose in the process.

"Ow! You bitch! What was that for?" He whimpered, as he touched his nose gingerly.

"I've had an idea!" Larxene declared loudly.

A few people glanced their way, but scattered quickly before they were subjected to a Larxene-Glare. Only few have survived the Larxene-Glare and fewer have dared to tell the tale. In short, Larxene had a really mean glare and you wouldn't want to witness one.

"Oh? And what is your grand idea, oh great one?" Marluxia asked dryly, still rubbing his poor nose.

"I have a bet for you! I'm sick and tired of dragging your pansy-ass all over this school because you're too busy swooning over Zexion to do it yourself! Don't you know what that does to my reputation?"

"Ummm...lowers it?"

"Yeah, it fucking lowers it!" Larxene snarled.

Marluxia cowered away from her Angry Face. It wasn't quite as scary as the Larxene-Glare but heck! It was up there with it!

"So, what's this bet about?" He asked warily.

Larxene's lips curled up into a mischievious smirk and her eyes glinted dangerously. Marluxia knew he was royally screwed.

"Zexion is over there, hiding behind his locker. He has probably glanced in this direction five times already. I bet if you go up to him and ask him out he'll say yes."

"What!?" Marluxia yelped.

"Well...that's IF you can go up to him...everyone knows what a big chicken you are, so I think this is gonna be the quickest and easiest bet I'll ever win!" Larxene declared.

"Ha! The Hell you will. I can ask Zexion out! In fact...I'll prove it to you and I'll go ask him out right now!"

Marluxia pulled away from Larxene and spun on his heel. Larxene's eyes widened as she watched the bubble-gum haired boy march off towards the love of his life.

...or so he says.

He marched on, across the hallway and towards Zexion. His confidence was up, his self-esteem high and his entire body screamed 'I-am-ready-for-this-life-changing-event!'...well, until he was about five feet away from his love interest.

Five feet...confidence still up, self-esteem high and body language screaming.

Four feet...confidence wavering, self-esteem drooping and body language quietening down a bit.

Three feet...confidence dropping, self-esteem plummeting and body language whispering.

Two feet...confidence crumbled, self-esteem has hit rock-bottom and body language barely audible.

One foot...confidence gone, self-esteem is non-existant and body language isn't speaking at all.

Now he was directly in front of Zexion and there was nothing about him that said 'I-am-ready-for-this-life-changing-event!', instead it was more 'I-am-about-to-fail-at-life-due-to-this-life-changing-event!'

His mouth opened and closed, his eyes were wide and his shoulders drooped down. Marluxia fumbled with his fingers, twirled his hair around his finger and chewed on his lip until it bled. He was so close to Zexion...so...freakin'...close...

He turned to see Larxene giving him an enormous grin and two thumbs-up. Well, that was odd...it was almost as if Larxene was on his side for a change. That was very odd!

"M-Marluxia! What...what are you doing here?"

The quiet voice tore him away from his thoughts and Marluxia looked up to see a big, blue eye gazing up at him with worry, fear and..._ohmysweetjesus_! There was lust in there too!

"Zexion!...umm...hi..."

"...hi yourself. What are you doing here Marluxia?"

Marluxia chewed on his lip again, blood seeped out from the broked lip and trickled down his chin. He winced at the sharp pain and reached up to wipe it off. However, Zexion had beaten him to it and had wiped the blood off for him. A light blush dusted his cheeks and his eyes widened as Zexion gently removed the blood from his chin.

"Hey Marluxia...your face matched your hair now. Did you know that?"

Zexion was looking up at him with an amused glint in his eye. He was so-very-small and so-very-cute. His head was tilted to the side and he was standing on his toes to reach Marluxia's face. It was so-very-adorable and Marluxia could feel his not-so-very-reliable-self-restraint crumble away.

He licked his lips and gazed down at the emo with and such intensity, it made Zexion flush, just by looking at it.

"Errm...Marluxia...what's with the look? Why...why are you looking at me like that?" He asked.

Marluxia just shook his head and grasped Zexion's shoulders. Then in one swift movement, he yanked Zexion forward and pressed their lips together.

He started to move his lips against the smaller boys. Nipping and sucking at the lower lip, demanding attention, entrance to inside his mouth, anything that would reassure him that Larxene was right and Zexion really did like him back.

Oh...no...

What if Larxene was lying?

That cow! That bitch! How dare she do this to him!? How dare she humiliate him like this!? Oh...no...no, no, no, no! This...can't be happening! Oh. God. No!

Marluxia started to tear away from Zexion's lips, feeling mortified that Larxene had set him like this, when a pair of hands encircled themselves around the back of Marluxia's neck. Zexion pressed himself against Marluxia's body, opening up his mouth and moaning as Marluxia slipped his tongue in.

Oh...that was so close. Too close. Marluxia felt as if he was about to have a heart attack. He was this close to actually believing that Zexion hadn't like him back...so...freakin'...close!

They parted as the need for oxygen became too great and they leant against each others foreheads. Damn...Zexion was one Hell of a good kisser...

In that short amount of time where Marluxia was panting softly against Zexion, he had realised three things:

1) Pink hair was kick-ass and if anyone disagreed, then they were just idiots with no sense of flair!

2) Larxene had set up a bet that meant she would win no matter what...again...

3) He, Marluxia had kissed the love of his life, Zexion and had a pretty nice time doing it.

So all in all...life was good.

In fact it was pretty damn good...but only if you had pink hair.

* * *

All praise for this chapter goes to City Girl Dreamer! The next chapter is mine, however. Hope you're all prepared!

~NS


	3. Gentleman

**Disclaimer:** Neither Naive-Symphony nor City Girl Dreamer own Kingdom Hearts (though we dream about it sometimes).

**Author's Note:** Okey okey, here's chapter three with *gasp* a het pairing! My first one too, how momentous! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this one. I had a pretty good time writing it. :)

**Warning: **This time it's a female/male story. So, er, if that happens to offend you then don't read this chapter... I guess.

* * *

**Chapter 3: **Gentleman

**Pairing:** Larxene/Luxord

**Rating:** T

**Author:** Naive-Symphony

* * *

Bells chimed and the sound of metal clacking against metal rang out again and again as I walked between the aisles. The constant "ker-chunk" of levers being pulled was always swiftly followed by the tell-tale swivel of wheels as they came to a halt, revealing their player's fate. Coming to a halt in front of a middle-aged gentleman at the end of the row, I plastered on a blindingly fake smile.

"Your Bud Light, sir," I interrupted cheerfully. Cigar poking out between his lips, the man brought his attentive glare up from the reeling slots before him to stare at me. Eyes glancing down to the brown bottle on the edge of my tray, a flash of recognition flew across his features as he reached up and took the drink.

"Thanks," he muttered in a gruff tone, smoke puffing from between his lips. He pulled a crumpled five dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it to me, eyes fixed on the machine in front of him once more.

"My pleasure sir," I said, taking the tip from his hands before turning and heading back down the aisle. Immediately allowing my smile to fall from my lips, I glared up at one of the clocks on the adjacent wall.

10:00

Fuck. I still had four more hours until my shift was over. I sighed heavily before retreating to the back of the casino, tray held aloft as to not drop the empty glasses that littered the surface. Once I'd reached Midnight Requiem, the ritzy little bar and lounge nestled in the corner of the oversized room, I set my tray down on the counter and pulled myself into a stool. Folding my arms on the smooth, black surface, I ducked my head down, resting my forehead on my forearms as I took a moment to breathe. I sighed heavily once more, not caring to even glance around to see if I was needed anywhere else.

"Ooh, don't let Xemnas catch you slacking off Larxene. He'll have you out on your pretty little ass before you can say 'mansex'," came a sing-song voice from behind the counter.

Grinning, I lifted my head to see shining blue-green eyes looking down at me teasingly. "Oh, go suck a dick, Demyx."

The dirty-blonde, fauxhawked bartender narrowed his eyes as his smile widened. Tapping a finger against the side of his cheek he looked up thoughtfully before responding, "Hmm, I would but unfortunately I don't get off 'til four tonight. Oh well, sucks to be me. Maybe I'll get some tasty male eye-candy in here tonight."

I rolled my eyes. "You're such a fruit. Stop leering at all of the customers like that, you'll scare them off," I joked, giving my friend a playful shove across the marble countertop.

Demyx scoffed. He raised a hand to his chest as if taken aback. "_Me_ scare them off? You'll be the one to scare them off with your crazy bitch vibes! Now shoo! Shoo! Get back out there before you get both of us in trouble," he fussed as he waved his hands at me in a motion to drive me away.

"Fine, fine, I'm leaving okay?" I whined as I got up and grabbed my tray again. I removed the dirty glasses and left them for Demyx to clean as I turned to leave, sticking my tongue out at him as I sauntered back towards the center of the casino.

"Just make sure you wiggle that ass of yours baby, _that'll_ get you more tips!" Demyx called as I lengthened the distance between us.

Pointing one finger towards the ceiling I yelled back, "I swear if one more sick motherfucker gropes my ass again, I'm whipping out my taser!" I barely heard the jovial laughter of my gay friend as I re-entered the raucous atmosphere of the main floor.

I looked around at all of the patrons with a glazed expression. Las Vegas. Sinful town of everyone's sick fantasies. The glitz, the glam, the glitter; attractive, yes; but deceitful. Sure, Vegas was great for a wild weekend, but man was it a shit hole to live in. There were days when I truly reconsidered ever coming here. I had been a stupid twenty-one year-old bimbo, saying "yes" to any man who gave a fuck. I thought that old hick town that I'd grown up in out in central Kansas had been a hell hole. I'd been eager to leave at the first chance. So when my boyfriend at the time, Marluxia Taylor, had asked me to run away with him to Vegas to get married, my response had been two words: "Hell yeah!"

So we did it. He came and picked me up at my family's old farmhouse in the boondocks and I'd run out and jumped into the passenger's seat of his red, beat up Cadillac, laughing as we drove away from my own private prison for the last time.

We drove west for a few days, stopping for the night at some shitty motels before finally landing in the happiest place on earth; and no, I'm not talking about Disneyland.

The lights of the strip had stunned me when we first turned onto Las Vegas Boulevard. I stared starry-eyed out of the window of the ancient vehicle as it puttered along in the stop-and-go traffic, hands pressed against the glass as I tried to take in every single aspect of what I'd only seen in pictures. Mandalay Bay shone bright and gold against the lights from the street. I gaped open-mouthed at the tall black pyramid beside it as its peak held a consistent beam of light shooting into the heavens. "The Luxor," I stated in awe. The pink-haired man next to me chuckled, obviously amused by my fascination.

We continued down the strip, and I could barely contain myself as we passed each and every massive structure. The Excalibur, New York New York, The Monte Carlo, The Paris, the list went on and on and on. Due to our extreme lack of funds, we weren't staying anywhere near the strip, but we'd be able to frequent it during the day.

After making it through the massive amounts of traffic that littered the boulevard, we turned off on a nameless side road and made our way towards another shitty motel; but this one was in Vegas. Pulling up outside of it I cast one more longing glance at the bright lights of the majestic buildings lit up behind us as Marluxia went to the front office to check in.

"I think I'm in heaven," I sighed to myself.

Of course, that's back when I was young and a dumbass. Marluxia and I had gotten married in some shotgun chapel the next day, getting in line behind other broke (or shit-faced) couples to exchange our vows at a previously designated time. I wore my high school prom dress and Marluxia had rented a tux for the evening. Neither of us was really focused on the ceremony, we were more interested in the partying that was to commence once we were outta there.

We got hitched, we ran out, we got totally _wasted_. It had been fun, I won't lie, but it didn't last. After a week or so, Marluxia had taken to lying around the room drinking beer while I had gone out job-hunting. After all, we had run away to stay; not for a fucking vacation. As the days drew on and neither one of us seemed to be having any luck finding a place to work (although he wasn't even trying to find one) the shimmer of Las Vegas was starting to dim.

It was a week later when we'd both decided that perhaps the whole "marriage thing" wasn't going to work out for us. He went back to Kansas and I stayed behind. Technically we'd never gone to court for a marriage license, so we weren't legally a couple anyway.

Even without Marluxia, this was my fresh start; my break away from my boring roots. I'd managed to snag a job working days at a coffee shop in town. The money wasn't anything big, but it would do for the time being. I had managed to scrape together some savings before we'd run off, so I could afford rent for my nasty apartment for the time being.

After a couple of years I'd run out of savings, and decided it was about time I got another job. I managed to get a spot as a cocktail waitress at the MGM Grand, working late nights serving complimentary drinks to patrons at the various machines. Really it was all just a way for the casino to get them to stay at the slots longer, but I did get some mighty fine tips out of it. I'd had to stretch myself thin to manage juggling two jobs, but the financial security was well worth it. Besides, I hadn't dropped of exhaustion yet or anything.

And it'd been four years to the date since I'd run away from home. I hadn't seen or heard from my family since then, but I'd basically assumed I was dead to them anyway. People just don't run away where I come from. You're supposed to grow up running around barefoot with the neighbor's kids, catching fireflies with your bare hands and going fishing at the local fishing hole. Then you grow up, marry your high school sweetheart, and grow old together in the rocking chairs on your front porch.

Too boring in my opinion. I liked life with a bit of spice, a bit of flavor, a bit of _style_. I didn't regret my decision to leave home, but I would admit that I had been stupid at the time.

The machine that I had been walking next to rang out in victory and I nearly jumped from the noise. Snapped from my trip down memory lane, I reacquainted myself with my surroundings, making sure not to run into anything (or anyone). I smiled a rehearsed smile at the large woman who was now jumping up and down, hugging her friend and screaming as thousands of coins poured out into the well beneath the machine. Nickels ricocheted as they bounced off of the metal trough and flew in every direction. I turned to continue my duties elsewhere. I laughed to myself. It's all just a fairy tale to them.

Four hours later my feet were killing me, my arms hurt from carrying trays full of bottles and glasses all night, and I really just needed a drink. I trudged over to the Requiem again and resumed my position of four hours prior, slumped onto the counter after I had planted my butt down on one of the cushy stools.

"Rough night?" I heard Demyx ask from above me. I simply nodded in acknowledgement, not wanting to lift my head. I was fucking exhausted. A few moments later I heard the sound of glass knocking against the counter nearby and I looked up. A clear glass filled with vodka sat inches from my arm, lime wedged and speared onto the rim. I glanced up at Demyx in confusion.

"It's on the house," he said cheerfully, cleaning a shot glass with a damp rag as he said so. I smiled at him, genuinely smiled, and then downed the drink in one gulp. Demyx laughed. "Damn Larx, you drink like an alcoholic you know?"

I glared at him. "Who the fuck stays sober in Vegas?"

He nodded in agreement, muttering, "True, true," as he absently cleaned another glass. The two of us sat in silence for a moment. Demyx concentrating heavily on his task while I glanced around at the few other customers over in the lounge. It looked as if only two of the tables were taken, one waitress attending to both. I thought about what kind of drink I'd want next until I heard a sharp gasp from the blonde bartender.

"Oh Larx it's him, it's him! Look over there!" Demyx squealed, jumping up and down and frantically pointing with one finger. Only mildly interested, I turned to see what he'd gotten so excited about and immediately froze.

Oh it was him indeed.

My eyes fell upon a pale blonde dealer as he smoothly passed cards across the table to the players across from him. His eyes never lifted from the cards as he dealt them expertly, lifting his gaze only once he had finished. His light blue eyes scanned the faces of the patrons before him as they each brought their respective hands to their faces. I couldn't tear my gaze away as I watched him coolly begin the game. His lips moved, but it was impossible for me to hear what he was saying due to the noise and distance between us. I wondered if perhaps I could read his lips, but after studying his mouth for a few seconds the only conclusion I'd reached was that I wanted to run over there and trap those lips between mine. Suddenly, pale blue lifted and locked with my eyes immediately. "Shit!" I'd exclaimed before rapidly turning around to face the bar once more. My face was flushed in unfamiliar embarrassment as I internally cursed myself for being so stupid.

Demyx held his stomach as he laughed loudly, glass now safely on the counter where he couldn't accidentally drop it in hysteria. I shot him one of the most poisonous leers I could muster and that shut him up somewhat. "You have no idea how badly I want to punch you in the face right now," I snapped at him.

Drying his eyes, the bartender simply propped his elbows on the counter and leaned towards me. "Girlie, if you want him that bad then you have to _do_ something about it! This isn't high school, you don't just blush and giggle and hope he comes to ask you to the school dance."

"I know that," I hissed. "I just… ugh. Forget it," I said before abruptly getting up to leave.

Unexpectedly a hand reached out and pushed me back down. After making sure I wouldn't topple off of the stool, I glared at Demyx again. "What the fuck was that for?" I asked sourly. He simply dismissed my attitude with a wave of his hand.

"Just hang around for an hour or so. I happen to know that Luxord gets off around the same time I do tonight. You can keep me company," the blonde said evenly, winking before turning his attention to another customer who had just approached the counter.

Luxord.

God damn him.

Two months after I'd started my job here as a cocktail waitress, I'd seen the man working one of the many poker tables scattered about the casino. I wasn't sure what'd first drawn my attention to him. Maybe it was his short, blonde hair that was almost white under the glow of the casino lights, or maybe it was his pale blue eyes that shone with such beauty that I quite honestly gasped the first time I saw them. Perhaps though, it was merely the air that the man exuded; this confident swagger that seemed to give off the impression that this was his domain, his sanctuary. It was an unusual thing to me, having grown tired of the luster of the city. But this, this is where he _thrived_.

He sported a well-groomed beard that framed his jaw and joined a thin moustache above his upper lip. His ears were, surprisingly, littered with piercings. This was perhaps the only physical trait of his that did not simply exude the essence of a suave, gentlemanly character.

The first time we had spoken had been three months after that. It was a particularly busy night, a Saturday no doubt, and I was flitting back and forth across the floor with almost inhuman speed. I was so wrapped up in what I was doing that I nearly crashed right into a smartly dressed man, but luckily he'd managed to lift his arms and steady my shoulders before I plowed right into him, tray and all. Out of breath and looking up to apologize, I froze. There were those pale blue eyes staring down at me with an amused twinkle.

"Watch yourself there love, wouldn't want to harm that pretty face of yours," he purred. I was in shock, utterly baffled by the beauty of the man's voice and by the fact that he had an accent that was distinctly British. British? Why the fuck was he here of all places? But before I had the chance to ask he was gone, swiftly walking in the opposite direction.

All in all, I wasn't sure what exactly attracted me to the man, but I could not keep my attentions from him for more than a few hours. I was constantly finding excuses to walk by his table just so I could hear that voice again, see his eyes, smell whatever cologne he was wearing. Yeah, maybe I was a bit freaky, but I couldn't help that I was attracted to the guy. He drew me in like a magnet. I couldn't escape.

Maybe it was just that he was such… such a _gentleman_. I'd been used to trailer trash back where I was from. Sophisticated fellows like Luxord just didn't exist in backwater towns in central Kansas.

I hadn't needed to confess my unusual interest in the man to my blonde bartender friend, as he'd noticed almost immediately. Bartenders do have an uncanny ability to read people. All Demyx had suggested was for me to initiate some form of conversation with the man. "Or at least jump him in a hallway or something," the blonde had so delicately put it, promptly receiving a smack to the head.

Now? Now was not a good time to talk to the blonde dealer I'd decided. I clicked my long, red fingernails impatiently against my empty glass as I fished for a way to get out of this without bringing the wrath of Demyx upon me. Gay men truly were quite frightening when angry.

"Dem please, not tonight," I pleaded. "I've had a rough day." I tried to make my request sound as pitiful as possible as I smoothed my slicked back hair, careful not to disturb the two tendrils meticulously sticking out from the rest of the blonde strands. I jutted out my bottom lip cutely and gave the best puppy-dog eyes I could muster at the blonde bartender.

Demyx gave me a pained expression before replying, "But Larx, you've been ogling this man for _months_! Maybe tonight he's just the kind of pick-me-up you need!" He reached an arm over the counter to pat me on the back. I sighed dejectedly. Demyx was sweet, but I wasn't really feeling confident enough to face Luxord tonight. Hell, I might never feel confident enough to admit to the man that I was falling for him; especially since we'd only talked once.

"I dunno Dem, maybe another time okay?" I finished before standing and turning to leave. I didn't glance back to see the hurt expression on my friend's face. I knew he was doing it all for me, but I just wasn't ready.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The shrill cry of the alarm going off at seven woke me up from an exhausted, dreamless sleep. These mornings were the worst; the ones when I had to work the morning shift at Zexion's coffee shop after spending the wee hours of the morning serving booze to late-night gamblers.

Resisting the urge to hurl the annoying device across the room, I simply turned off the alarm and turned onto my stomach. Groaning into the pillow, I pushed my body off of the bed and made for the shower. As I turned on the water I rubbed my eyes before staring at my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles lined the bottoms of the dulled green eyes of the blonde woman staring back at me. Her hair was unusually shaped after being form-fitted into the pillow for the past few hours. My face looked pale and unhealthy. Thank heaven for makeup; I was going to need it today.

After cleaning myself up and making sure I was presentable, I turned the key in the lock of my front door and headed down the hall of the apartment complex I'd been living in for the past year or so. Before securing two jobs, I'd been living in a shitty apartment complex far from the buzz of the strip, but once I'd gotten the job at the MGM, I made a slight upgrade to be closer to work. The increased rent was definitely worth the air conditioning that I had lacked in my previous room. Summers in the Mojave Desert were killer.

Hopping into my recently acquired blue '93 Ford Ranger, I backed out of the parking lot and headed towards town.

As I walked into the sleepy little coffee shop, the tiny bell above the door rang daintily. I scowled at it, wanting nothing more than to rip it from its perch and chuck it across the parking lot. I really didn't see the need for a bell when the shop was so tiny that you could have two people stand in opposite ends of the room and they could carry on a conversation at normal volume. Still, the owner's word was law.

As if on command, the blue-haired devil himself appeared from the back.

"Good morning Larxene, we're on time today," he stated coolly, raising a hand to shift the curtain of hair that covered one half of his face, only to have it fall back into place immediately after.

"Yeah, thought I'd give it a try," I replied with a grin. I went to the back to grab my apron before returning to the cash register to wait to clock in.

"Long night?" my boss asked, concern marring his smooth features. Zexion knew that I had a second job working late on the strip, and he was unusually sympathetic towards me. Truly, I was surprised the man showed any emotion at all.

I looked up at him tiredly, taking a moment to register what he had said before replying, "Yeah," with a yawn. I reached down to punch in my number just as the clock on the register read 8:00, taking the receipt that the machine spit out and crumbling it into a ball. Zexion merely shrugged before returning to the back room.

The bell chimed not two seconds later. I looked up, fake smile in place, but it immediately relaxed into a real one once I saw who had walked in the door. "Oh, hey Demyx. How the fuck are you so bright and cheery at eight if you got off at _four_?" I asked incredulously as I propped my elbow on the counter and rested my face in my palm.

The blonde simply shrugged, clad in a black tank and khaki shorts. His flip-flops slapped against his feet as he approached the counter. "Don't need much sleep I guess. Zexy!" the blonde screeched just as the boss man walked back out into the front, carrying an unlabeled box and walking around the counter to the dining area.

"How many times have I asked you not to call me that, Demyx?" Zexion asked dully. He slowly began to restock the various shelves around the store with mugs, bottles, and other merchandise.

Demyx merely followed the shorter man around like a lost puppy. "I know, I know, I just can't help make up nicknames for the people I like. Right Larx?" he said as he turned to me.

I flipped him off with a smirk and he simply rolled his eyes. "You're no help," he said before returning his attentions to the dark-haired man.

I laughed to myself. Ever since Demyx had come in to visit me four months ago, he'd taken an intense liking to the shop's owner. Zexion, while not seeming to reciprocate the man's attentions, didn't seem to openly repel them either. One wouldn't notice if they weren't around the two during most of their interactions (as I usually was), but Zexion really had warmed up to the spunky blonde.

After tormenting the poor man for another half hour or so, Demyx ordered his hot chocolate (what a pussy) to go. He slid his sunglasses onto his face in preparation for the blinding sun that was sure to be out in full now. "Alright, I'll see you guys later," he said, pushing back on the door. "Oh and Larx? Don't be surprised if you have a _visitor_ later today," he added, eyebrows waggling suggestively. He waved and took a sip of his drink before disappearing behind the tinted windows of his white CR-V. Before I had time to even process what he had said, he was gone.

A visitor? Besides Demyx I hadn't made any really lasting friendships here. I mean sure, there was Namine whom I cocktailed with from time to time, but the two of us didn't really hang out except for the rare instances when we'd grab drinks together if our shifts ended at the same time. And Vexen, the creepy security guard who was constantly making passes at me. Well, I guess I wouldn't really call him a friend. Who could Demyx possibly be talking about? Unless he decided to pop back in again later in the day. I snorted. Freakshow. He totally would too, just to see his _Zexy_.

Business had been slow all day. With the exception of Demyx, we'd had about thirteen customers by noon. Who wants coffee in the middle of the day in July? Zexion had drastically cut back on everyone's shifts for the summer, usually leaving himself and one other worker during the weekdays. Wanting to save money, shifts had all been reduced to six hours or less, except for very few instances. Zexion was picking up the slack himself, working the coffee shop almost constantly. This lack of hours had caused a few employees to complain, but I didn't give a damn. The less time I spent here, the more time I had to catch up on laundry or grocery shopping… or sleep.

It was one thirty now, only another half hour until I'd be free for the rest of the day. I didn't have work back at the MGM until ten o'clock tomorrow night, and I was going to fully enjoy my short period of freedom. Leaning against the wall during Zexion's short trip to restroom I closed my eyes momentarily, hoping to rest for just a brief moment or two. However my sad excuse for a break was rudely interrupted by that goddamn bell, clueing me into the appearance of another customer.

"Hello, welcome to–" I began, but was immediately caught breathless as I saw just who had walked in through the front door.

Sporting long, ripped jeans and a plain white t-shirt, Luxord walked up to the counter. He shifted his sunglasses up from the bridge of his nose to rest on his head. He smiled sheepishly at me and I had only just noticed the bundle of flowers in his right hand. I'd never seen the man look so… _casual_.

"Er, Demyx said you'd be here and I just wanted to… come by and say hi," he began nervously, before adding, "and give you these," as he passed the assortment of wildflowers over the counter and into my arms.

I gaped at them for a moment before looking down at the bundle of flowers. They were _beautiful_. I really was a sucker for pretty things. I closed my eyes and leaned down to smell them. The heavenly aroma filled my nose as I lifted my gaze to smile at him. "They're wonderful," I said in thanks.

Mouth quirked into a half-grin, Luxord shoved his hands into his pockets. I almost wanted to giggle. I had always seen the man in suits, looking clean and sharp. Not shuffling his sandals across the floor, awkwardly playing with the tendrils on his jeans.

Surprisingly, I liked this Luxord just as much as I liked the smartly dressed, sophisticated Luxord; maybe even _better_.

"So, what time do you get off?" he asked, looking up at me as he fidgeted with his keys as they dangled from his left pocket.

Glancing down at the cash register's clock I responded, "I've got about twenty-five minutes left."

"Great!" Luxord exclaimed. "Uh, mind if I take you out afterwards?" he asked cautiously.

If my eyes hadn't bugged out of my head at that statement, I'd be surprised. "O-of course!" I stuttered out.

The smile that the blonde dealer had flashed was nearly blinding. "Brilliant! I'll hang around until you get off then."

I couldn't contain myself, I laughed girlishly. Ugh, it was a disgusting sound but felt _so_ good. This man who'd previously attracted me with his mystery and sharp appeal, nursed a café mocha at a nearby table as the two of us casually chatted for the next twenty minutes or so about nothing in particular.

And when my shift was up, I'd clocked out, grabbed my flowers, and tossed my apron happily at Zexion's face. He tugged it off of his head and merely smiled at me as I walked out the door, which was being held open for me by a certain blue-eyed dealer.

What a gentleman.

* * *

I was in Vegas recently, which helped inspire the plot (what plot?) for this chapter. Everytime I said "Luxor" I had to mentally keep myself from saying "Luxord" instead. Ha ha.

~NS


	4. Cracking Up

**Disclaimer:** Neither Naive-Symphony nor City Girl Dreamer own Kingdom Hearts (though we've played the games 'til our brains exploded).

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the wait everyone, City Girl Dreamer went on a vacation and then right when she got back I went on one! So now we can finally continue with the epic saga of Orgy XIII. I would like to apologize for my absence since I pretty much vanished for a week without telling anyone (City Girl's off the hook since she actually told people she'd be away for a couple of weeks). I thought I'd have internet while I was away and I thought wrong, so that is why I have yet to post my celebratory 8/13 one-shot. Okay, excuse the self-promotion. Enjoy this awesome chapter!

**Warning:** Contains man on man action. You heard it. You have been officially warned.

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**Chapter 4:** Cracking Up

**Pairing: **Lexaeus/Xigbar

**Rating: **M

**Author: **City Girl Dreamer

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He didn't know who his dealer would be.

He didn't know if he was going to get what he desired.

He didn't know whether he should trust his instincts or the note.

He did know that the note asked him to meet the dealer outside the _Thirteenth Hour _strip club and wait there until 2:00am.

Xigbar was completely dressed in black. Black shirt, black suit, black pants and black shades. He was to blend in with the shadows, completely hide himself away from any spectators. This was his first time buying, and he wasn't going to fuck it up now. Two hundred fuckin' bucks...two hundred for what?

Four measly grams of Crack.

Gawd...Axel must be desperate if he was willing to pay that much...

Xigbar himself took the drug, but he wasn't about to pay with his own money. Oh...no...he conned others into paying it for him. Not like they knew about it though. Xigbar would split the amount into half...it wasn't like they were going to measure the amount. Too stoned to even register that the bag they received was lighter than it should have been.

See, that's the thing about Xigbar. He wasn't _just_ a crackhead...a stoner...a druggie...

He was smart. He knew how to con people out of their money's worth. He knew how to play them as if they were instruments. He knew how to manipulate anyone for anything.

Tonight he was using Axel's two hundred fuckin' bucks to buy four measly grams of Crack. Axel would be led into believing he was getting four, when actually Xigbar would split it and Axel would receive just two.

Axel would be so ecstatic over getting his drugs, that he wouldn't even consider the fact that he was getting less than he paid for.

That was the beauty of being a smart druggie.

So here he was. On the corner of some street, outside some club watching the pimps and the whores strut their stuff. It was 8:59; surely the dealer wasn't the punctual type...that would be a first.

Xigbar felt an itch that he desperately needed to scratch...he really, really needed his stuff now! He had used up the last of it earlier in the morning, that probably gave him a few hours of being high and now he was coming down.

Shit...that dealer best come soon...Xigbar wasn't pretty when someone was holding him up...especially when it came to his drugs.

He was starting to feel antsy. His hands grew moist and he felt a hot flush rise in his head. Xigbar reached into his pocket and took out the piece of scrumpled up paper that held the notes of the meeting. Sighing, he checked his watch and growled out in anger.

"This is getting ridiculous!" He growled and threw the note away with annoyance.

"...what is annoying?"

Jumping at the deep voice that came from behind, Xigbar spun around and gulped as he looked up. The man was huge! Like really, really tall...and really, really...muscular. Xigbar guessed that one push from his would send a guy flying across the street...

Well...shit...

Xigbar shook his head to stop gawking at the guy and gave the area a quick once over before pulling the guy into the alleyway.

"So, I have $200 here...you got what I want?"

The guy laughed and reached into his pocket.

"You mean, have I got what you _need_? Yes. But at that price...no chance."

Xigbar's mouth curled into a snarl and he spat in front of the guy's shoes.

"Listen, I ain't having Xemnas cheating me out of more money that he normally does. He said 200 and that's all he's getting!"

"It ain't Xemnas who's giving out the goods...it's Saix. The police are cracking down on drug dealing and Xemnas is this close to getting banged up."

"Ahh, so Saix is getting weary that his precious leader is about to get locked up. He makes me sick! So...what's he asking for?"

"Double."

Xigbar was certain that he was about to lose the other eye, seeing as it widened up so much.

"Four? That slimy dog wants 400? For a few measly grams...no chance!"

The guy gave him a bored look and reached into his pocket. Inside was a brown paper bag, and he tossed it over to Xigbar casually. Catching it in one hand, he opened it up and his entire face lit up with greed.

"You're shitting me!"

Inside was the gold mine of all drugs...heroin. Class A for police...Class A for druggies...this was...perfect.

"No. Call this the 'freebie' of tonight. You cough up 200 more and it's yours."

Xigbar gulped and chewed his lip. He was desperate. He was deprived. He needed this so fucking much.

"Ain't there another way of paying for it?"

The guy regarded him slowly, and a small smirk started to grow on his face.

"There is one way of paying for it. Saix said you'd be up for it...but I'm not sure it'd be up your street though..." He said softly.

"As if! I've probably done far worse than whatever he can come up with!" Xigbar snorted.

The man's eyes glinted dangerously in the little amount of light they had. He walked slowly towards Xigbar, causing him to back into a wall.

"You have a big mouth. Saix told me about that...he also told me that your mouth could be put to better uses too," He murmured.

Xigbar growled as he felt his back hit the wall behind him. That blue-haired dog...once this was over and done with; he was going to give him a few more scars to match the ones on his face!

"So, Xigbar...play along, and we can forget about the extra $200. We have a deal?"

"As if! You think I'm a slut? Please, you've been talking to Saix right? There's your slut!" He spat.

The guy gave him a creepy smile and snatched the bag of heroin back from Xigbar. Tossing it to the side, he grabbed hold of Xigbar's shoulders and slammed their lips together. Almost immediately, Xigbar was repulsed and tried to break away, but being trapped between the wall and the guy, he found that escaping was impossible.

Breaking away slightly, the guy swiftly removed the belt on Xigbar's trousers and placed it around the smaller man's neck loosely.

"The name's Lexeaus. So...are you going to play?"

Xigbar glared up at him and spat in his face.

"Get fucked."

Wiping the spit away with his hand, Lexeaus' eyes glinted dangerously. He looped one end of the belt through the buckled and tightened it slowly. Xigbar felt the pressure on his airways, but refused to show any signs of discomfort.

"You're the one who'll be getting fucked tonight actually. So pipe down and stay still...don't want to get hurt now, do we?" He asked with mocking concern.

Xigbar snarled and tried to tear the guys hand from the belt that was slowly crushing his throat, but his hands were knocked away and pinned above his head. Lexeaus tilted his head to the side at how _vulnerable _Xigbar looked and licked his lips slowly. He reached down and yanked the pants down with one quick tug. The cold air raised the hairs on Xigbar's legs and he shivered as he felt the chill creep up his legs.

Lexeaus smirked and slammed their mouths together again. Xigbar knew that what they were doing couldn't possibly be called kissing...more gnawing each other's lips off, causing blood to spill and teeth to clash painfully.

He felt his boxer's get torn from his body and he that's when he broke away from the kiss, his lower half now exposed to some psycho dealer.

"What the fu--"

His words were cut off, when another harsh kiss was planted on his lips. His entire body jolted and shook when he felt a large hand grasp his cock hard and pump it firmly. He tried protesting, but all of his words were swallowed up into the kiss.

Lexeaus then undid his own belt and pants, letting them fall to his knees. His erection pressed against Xigbar's stomach, making him gulp as he made a hazard guess as to how big it was. The bigger man then kicked Xigbar's trousers away and lifted him up, wrapping the legs around his own waist and letting go of Xigbar's hands.

"I suggest you relax...apparently this can be quite painful..." Lexeaus murmured into Xigbar's ear.

He was given a split-second chance to relax, before Lexeaus slammed into him to the hilt. Xigbar threw his head back and growled out in pain. He gritted his teeth together and glared up at the taller man, feeling the spikes of pain shoot up his body.

"F-Fuckin' d-dick! You...asshole! You...mother....fucker!" He cursed and spat, grasping Lexeaus' shoulders in a vice-like grip.

Lexeaus merely laughed and started to pull out of the smaller man...only to thrust all the way back in hard.

Xigbar gasped and groaned and cursed all the way throughout the ordeal, snapping and biting at Lexeaus' lips whenever they came near his own. The burning pain in his ass started to go achingly numb...the thrusts and the pushes were aimed away from his pleasure spot....causing the pain to intensify whenever he was given a particular painful shove.

He felt the older man shudder and could feel the familiar feeling of being filled up with cum. The older man then gave him one last kiss before pulling out and then dropping him to the floor.

Xigbar winced at the connection and bit out numerous curses and threats. He watched the man through narrowed eyes as he pulled up his pants and did up his belt. Lexeaus gave him a cruel smile and tossed the bag of crack and heroin to him, picking up the $200 from Xigbar's pants as he did so.

"There...that wasn't so bad now was it? Hopefully one of the whores around here will help finish you off..." He smirked and turned to leave the alleyway.

Xigbar slowly heaved himself up to his knees and gingerly picked up the bags. Damn Axel better be fucking grateful for this...and Saix was dead the next they cross paths...

He looked up to see the dealer give him a mocking blow kiss, before disappearing around the cover. Xigbar scoffed and spat on the floor with disgust.

"Keep the change..." He muttered darkly.

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Thanks for reading this wonderful chapter by the wonderful City Girl Dreamer! Stay tuned for more, coming soon!

~NS


	5. Layover

**Disclaimer:** Neither Naive-Symphony nor City Girl Dreamer own Kingdom Hearts (or Starbucks or anything else of significance).

**Author's Note:** So it's been almost a year since I've updated this. Sorry guys! If any of you out there are still reading this then I commend you on your patience. Let all the Zemyx fans rejoice because this one-shot chapter marks my first ficlet centered around the pairing. I wish I had something better to give you after waiting for so long. I'm not so sure I like this chapter, but I digress, here it is for you.

**Warning:** Slight yaoi. Slight language. Slight sleepiness. Slight headache.

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**Chapter 4:** Layover

**Pairing:** Demyx/Zexion

**Rating:** T

**Author:** Naive-Symphony

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Airports were interesting places indeed. Always so full of movement and life; people hustling and bustling like marching ants, trying to get here or go there, meet here or leave there. Never stopping, merely pausing with another destination in mind, not caring to stop and consider their surroundings. Everything was background noise, save for wherever they were headed next. Most everyone seemed dead-set on reaching their destination and nothing else. It was the purest form of organized chaos. A sort of resting place before taking off again for a new adventure. Truly a silly place for one to consider calling home.

But airports were about as close to a home as Demyx had; arms folded tightly as he hunched forward in his seat, back against the large windows as he tried to sneak in a few moments of sleep before the announcement rang over the loudspeakers that his next flight was boarding. His ear buds were jammed dangerously far into his ears in an attempt to block out any and all extraneous noise from hindering his attempt at a moment's rest, although they were usually pretty far in there even when he wasn't trying to sleep. Music was something he needed like air. Demyx was always tapping his foot or humming along to some beat, even on the rare occasion that his headphones weren't thrumming in his ears. He figured he'd probably have hearing damage later in life, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Such was the burden of a traveling musician.

Demyx cracked one eye open to check on the guitar case occupying the seat next to him. Seeing it was still sitting there as untouched as it had been before, he sighed and resumed his efforts for some shut-eye.

Rather than seeing the act of traveling as a necessary evil, Demyx managed to find enjoyment in it. He knew that most people preferred the destination, but he rather enjoyed the journey. One could see all kinds of interesting things before they'd even left the ground. Tearful families reuniting with loved ones at the baggage claim, brightly-dressed foreigners asking for directions, solemn-faced businessmen with wrinkled brows. Not to mention the kinds of interesting people you could make friends with when you were forced to sit next to them for hours with a laughable amount of personal space. The endless variety of people made it all bearable in Demyx's mind.

The blond musician wasn't really sure why he was so interested in the comings and goings of others, but he was. Perhaps it was because he too was always leaving one place for another, and he saw these masses of travelers as people he could relate to. Friends, possibly? An eclectic family of sorts? Or maybe, it was because he simply enjoyed the diversity of those he came across throughout his travels. Or maybe still, it was because he was looking for something within those colorful crowds, and he had yet to find it.

All of these were the consistent musings of the weary musician as he wavered between wakefulness and sleep, head jerking back occasionally as his body futilely descended into a tortuous limbo, desperately seeking to rest but not quite reaching that goal. One particularly powerful jerk threw his head back so hard that it smacked into the window he'd been so casually leaning against, sending a sickening thud echoing through his skull.

"Owww," Demyx muttered as he rubbed the back of his head tenderly, now wide-awake, much to his dismay. The irritated blond pouted to himself as he continued to massage his scalp tenderly, cursing his misfortune. He was barely halfway through his two-hour layover in Phoenix, was it too much to ask for a quick nap?

Demyx wasn't your average travelling musician. He'd long since passed the phase of the struggling dropout who was just waiting to be discovered. Demyx was a sort of "jack of all trades" in the music industry. Somewhat of a modern Mozart of his time, he'd gained a quick mastery over a variety of musical instruments at a young age, being recruited by various bands back in his hometown whenever someone needed an extra backup musician or replacement in a tight spot. It had started as something to do for a little extra cash on the side, but over the years it had developed into a full-fledged career for the blond musician. He'd graduated from high school and took on the task full-time. His little black book was his pride and joy. He had contacts from Seattle to Miami, and everywhere in-between. He'd even played a few shows in Tokyo last summer with a Japanese friend that he'd met a couple years back. He was a valuable resource to those who knew him.

Now, sitting in the airport in the middle of the day with a throbbing headache, he felt as if he were about to collapse from lack of sleep. He'd run himself ragged over the past two weeks, managing to make shows in both Orlando and Los Angeles within the span of five days. It was a wonder he hadn't slipped into an exhaustion-induced coma.

Raising his gaze to take in his surroundings, Demyx dully noted that there weren't very many people at his gate yet. He shuffled through his pockets and pulled out his cell phone, groaning miserably when he realized that he hadn't even managed to get a measly thirty minutes of sleep. Blowing his bangs out of his eyes with an aggravated puff, he leaned back carefully against the window once more. He still had quite a while until his plane even showed up.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, the blond stood up to stretch his limbs. There was so only so much torture his butt could take after an hour in one of the terminal's dilapidated seats. His back was already feeling the effects of the ripped leather and awkward position the contraption forced upon his spine.

Deciding that he probably wouldn't be able to fall asleep again for a while after his failed attempt, Demyx asked a nearby woman if she would watch his stuff for him while he went to the bathroom. She glanced up from her well-worn mystery novel and nodded, smiling sweetly. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes sank deeper when she smiled and Demyx, and he was briefly reminded of his mother, back home in Pittsburgh all by her lonesome. He made a mental note to call her once he'd landed in Chicago later that evening. Demyx flashed the woman a thankful grin before heading over to the men's restroom on the other side of the hall. A splash of water to the face would probably do him some good right now. Maybe afterwards he'd splurge and buy something from the Starbucks at the other end of the hallway. He briefly wondered what the legal limit of espresso shots was as he pushed through the bathroom door.

Leaning heavily on one of the sinks, Demyx hardly recognized the man staring back at him in the mirror. It'd been a long time since he'd pulled off this many shows in so little time, and he certainly wasn't as young as he used to be. His normally pristine fauxhawk was poorly gelled, causing several loose strands to fall around his face. Frowning, Demyx tried to fix it, but to no avail. Grunting in frustration he bent down over the sink and turned on the cold water, taking the liberty to splash as much onto his face as he could without completely drenching his clothes. Looking up at the mirror again, Demyx rubbed his eyes furiously, trying to wake himself up. He even slapped his cheeks a few times.

"C'mon Dem, pull it together. You're too young and handsome for those nasty bags under your eyes." He was about to talk himself up a bit more for good measure when one of the toilets at the end of the row flushed. He hadn't realized he wasn't the only one in here. Awkwardly clearing his throat, Demyx pulled a paper towel out of the nearest dispenser and dabbed at his damp face. When the stall opened, Demyx took care not to make eye contact with the other man, feeling slightly embarrassed for being caught complimenting himself in a public restroom.

Luckily, the other patron seemed to have no desire to talk to him either. Demyx cautiously watched the man from his periphery as he appeared in front of the last sink. Curiosity getting the best of him, Demyx turned his head. The other man hadn't seemed to even acknowledge the blond's presence as he finished washing his hands in silence. He was slightly shorter than Demyx, slate-colored hair falling in a curtain across one half of his face. He looked up suddenly into the mirror and his one visible eye locked onto Demyx for a brief moment. He thought he saw the stranger's eye widen for a fraction of a second, but Demyx figured it could've just been the lack of sleep making him see things. Demyx quickly looked away, face reddening slightly. Now the guy had seen him staring. The slate-haired man dried his hands with a paper towel, then turned and left the bathroom without another glance in the blond's direction.

Almost as soon as the door shut, Demyx's head started to feel fuzzy. The memory of those icy blue eyes meeting his gave him the most powerful wave of déjà vu he had ever experienced. He clung to the sink as his vision blurred in an effort to avoid crashing to the ground. His knees were trembling violently and nearly buckled beneath him. He felt like he was going to faint. His head was a turbulent ocean of thoughts, and Demyx's mind was trying to latch onto all of them at the same time. He was only able to catch snippets of the images that flashed quickly through his brain, and none of them seemed to make sense. A lone figure in a hooded black cloak. A feeling of crazed exhilaration as he stood between looming skyscrapers in a downpour of rain. A heart-shaped moon that hung hopelessly in the sky. A shining key falling towards him like a pendulum. An overwhelming hollow feeling in his chest hit him like a hammer and he fell to the floor as everything went black.

Demyx woke up gasping and drenched in sweat. Confused, he tried to get up but was immediately pushed back down by a firm but gentle hand.

"Don't, you'll pass out again."

Not knowing what to do aside from obey, Demyx merely nodded, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his skull, and laid himself back down on the cold tile with a sigh.

"He hit his head pretty hard, he might have a concussion."

Demyx was barely able to listen as the voices above him talked in a low murmur. Head swimming, he tried to remember where he was, and why was he on the floor? He'd arrived in Phoenix twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Then he'd found his gate and proceeded to try to get some sleep before jetting off to his next location. After that didn't work out he'd gone to the bathroom and then-

"Sir, do you think you can get up for us please? Slowly now, wouldn't want you to hurt yourself again."

Shaken from his train of thought, Demyx chanced a glance upwards. Blinking in the harsh light, it took a moment before he could make out the two figures leaning over him. One was an airport security guard, dressed in a dull gray uniform and staring down at him with a concerned expression knotting his brow. The second was the man he'd seen in the bathroom before; long bangs swept behind one ear as he stared down at Demyx with an unreadable look etched upon his features.

Groaning, Demyx allowed the other two to help him so that he was sitting on the tile floor rather than laying on it. Briefly considering the fact that he'd just had his faced pressed against the floor of a public restroom, Demyx winced in disgust.

"Head still hurt?" asked the slightly overweight security guard.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. A bit," Demyx responded, gingerly tracing his fingers through his hair in search of a bump.

"You should thank this fellow here for finding you as soon as he did. Who knows how long you would've been in here," the guard said as he clapped the other man on the back.

_Yeah, it's not like an airport bathroom is a place that usually has people in it_, Demyx wanted to say, but decided against it. He'd already successfully made a fool of himself in front of the handsome stranger three times.

"Thanks," he said instead, looking up into the man's eyes as he smiled. No whir of images shooting through his head this time. Only a quiet stare from the slate-haired stranger.

"It was nothing," the man said with a shrug before allowing his hair to fall back over his face. He got up and turned to leave.

"Hey, wait!" Demyx shouted after him, but the door had already closed. He got up quickly, but had to support his weight on one of the sinks when another sharp pain shot through his skull.

"Whoa, careful there son. Sure you don't wanna go to a hospital here in Phoenix?" the security guard asked.

Demyx shook his head, but regretted it as soon as the dull throb of pain intensified. "Nah, I've got a flight at 3:30," he said, glancing down at his watch to see that it was in fact, 3:30 on the dot.

"Shit!" he swore as he ran out of the bathroom and back into the seating area. Sure enough, all of the other passengers had boarded already. The seating area was almost entirely devoid of people. Demyx ran to grab his guitar case and dashed over to the flight attendant waiting patiently at the gate.

"Are you Demyx Carter?" she asked politely.

"Yeah," Demyx said as he fumbled through his pockets in search of his boarding pass. Finding it crumpled in his back pocket he ripped it out and shoved it into the woman's waiting hands. "Here, sorry."

"That's just fine, sir. The plane is still preparing to leave. Enjoy your flight," the flight attendant said as she smoothed out the pass and scanned it into the computer.

Demyx gave her a quick wave as he jogged down the ramp to board the plane. He was never more thankful than he was right now for assigned seating. At least he knew he wasn't going to be trapped between two overly obese people due to the fact that he was the last person on the plane. He had an aisle seat saved just for him somewhere in the front, and the seat next to it for his cherished guitar.

Stepping onto the aircraft, he gave the crew an apologetic smile. He felt embarrassed having to make the entire plane wait for him. He glanced down at his tickets and saw that his seats were in row six. Demyx shifted his guitar strap on his shoulder and began to make his way down the aisle as the flight attendants began to rattle safety information over the loudspeakers.

Scanning the numbers printed below the overhead compartments he came upon two empty seats. To his surprise, the window seat was occupied by none other than the man he'd seen in the bathroom.

"Six?" Demyx asked.

The man whipped his head around and stared at the blond incredulously. "What did you say?"

Demyx was slightly taken aback by the slate-haired man's reaction. "Uh, this is row six, right?"

The stranger's face relaxed considerably. "Oh. Yes, yes it is."

"Cool, guess we're gonna be plane buddies then," Demyx said with a sheepish grin as he tossed his guitar into the middle seat before sitting down in his own. He reached around and held out his hand. "My name's Demyx."

The other man glanced at his outstretched hand briefly before grasping it in his own with a firm shake. "Zexion."

"Zexion," Demyx said with a smile as he shook his hand once more before letting go. "I'd say nice to meet you, but I suppose I should've said that earlier. Thanks again, by the way."

"It was no problem," Zexion said.

The two sat in silence for a moment; Demyx tapping his foot to some erratic beat in his head while Zexion folded his hands in his lap. Demyx had heard the safety speech so many times he could probably give it himself, in his sleep.

Demyx cleared his throat. "So… where you headed?"

"Chicago." Zexion stated. "That is where this plane is headed, isn't it?"

Demyx snorted, resting his head against his seat. "Well yeah, I was just wondering if you were actually going to Chicago or somewhere nearby. Or maybe you've got another plane to catch once we land. Or maybe I was just making sure you were on the right flight," he added with a smile.

"Nope, just Chicago. What makes you so interested?" Zexion asked with a quirked eyebrow as the plane began to back out of the gate.

Demyx shrugged and scratched his cheek. "I dunno, I guess I just like to hear about other people. It's interesting hear why people are travelling, where they're headed or who they're going to go see." He glanced over at Zexion. "Doesn't that interest you at all?"

Zexion sighed. "I suppose. I usually just guess though. You can usually deduct quite a bit with only five minutes of observation."

"Oh really?" Demyx said with a grin as he turned in his seat to face the other. "So what can you deduct about me, Sherlock?"

Zexion's lips quirked in a small smile as the plane picked up speed down the runway. "Well I can see from our middle passenger here that you are a musician, and the fact that you spent the money to get a seat for your instrument rather than checking it in as luggage tells me that you are most likely a professional and like to take good care of it. Either that or you've got quite a lot of money, but you're sitting back here in the regular seating rather than in first class so something tells me that it's the former."

Demyx's eyebrows rose. "Wow, not bad. You some sort of detective?"

Zexion chuckled. "No, I'm no detective. I'm an English professor at Northwestern University."

"Northwestern? Jesus, that's even more impressive. That was my dream school! Well, back when I was planning on going to college," Demyx said, toying with a few loose strands of hair.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I actually played in my school's orchestra back in the day. Not a bad cellist if I do say so myself," Demyx said with a laugh. "I even had a few scouts come from Northwestern that said I'd be eligible for a scholarship if I stuck with it."

"Why didn't you?" Zexion asked.

"Hmm. I dunno. I guess I just didn't feel like being tied down to something like that you know? Didn't wanna be tied down to one future. Didn't wanna be tied down to one instrument either," Demyx continued.

Zexion snorted. "Sounds like you have commitment problems."

Demyx laughed. "Hey now! I can commit to something. I just like having the freedom to choose," he said with a smile.

"A bit of a free spirit then?" Zexion asked coolly.

Demyx grinned. "I guess you could say that."

"I'm sure the ladies don't appreciate your inability to stay tied down," Zexion added with a glint in his eye.

Demyx's eyes widened as a slow smile crept onto his face. _No way_. "I wouldn't know. The ladies don't interest me much. What makes _you _so interested?" he retorted.

Zexion laughed and shrugged. "Just asking an innocent question. You were the one talking about the fear of commitment."

Feeling slightly more daring, Demyx leaned across his guitar as he spoke. "You're a lot more forward than I thought, Zexion. I thought I'd at least have to buy you a drink first," Demyx teased. Zexion merely returned his smirk. Demyx thought for a moment before unbuckling his seatbelt and the one around his guitar. Ignoring the "buckle your seatbelt sign" that had been lit since takeoff, Demyx raised the armrest between the two seats and switched spots with his instrument. "There, that's better," he said.

Zexion appraised him silently with a small smile. The two men looked up as the flight attendant stopped in front of their row. "Gentlemen, anything to drink?" she asked, pen hovering patiently over her pad of paper.

"You said something about buying me a drink?" Zexion asked the musician.

Demyx grinned at him before turning to the flight attendant. "Could we get a couple of screwdrivers please? My treat," he said with a wink. She jotted down the order and gave them both a smile before moving on to the next row.

The two settled into easy conversation for the remainder of the flight. Demyx was thrilled to learn that Zexion loosened up considerably after getting a drink in his system. The solemn professor had quite the sense of humor when buzzed, and in the presence of good company as he added (much to Demyx's delight). Demyx hardly took notice of the rest of the plane throughout the entire flight. There was something about Zexion that was just so… familiar? He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but Demyx felt as if he'd known the man his whole life.

When the pilot's voice came on over the loudspeaker that they were beginning their descent into Chicago, Demyx's heart sank.

"How long did you say you were going to be in town?" Zexion asked as he pulled a pen out of his pocket and began jotting something down on a napkin.

"About a week. I've got a show in Seattle next Sunday," Demyx replied with a touch of exhaustion. He'd nearly forgotten how tired he'd been before. The past three hours had been surprisingly invigorating.

Zexion thrust the napkin into Demyx's hand and capped his pen. The blond stared at the piece of paper with a dumbfounded expression for a moment before his face broke into a wide grin. "That's my cell. Give me a call if you have a moment. I can show you around the city," Zexion said with a small smile.

"Oh you can bet I will!" Demyx said excitedly.

When the plane finally landed at O'Hare International, Demyx was genuinely sad to go. He and Zexion both got up in silence and followed the herd of passengers off of the plane. Once they were out in the terminal, Demyx turned to shake hands with his new friend before they went their separate ways. To his surprise, Zexion's face was inches from his.

"Zexion wha-" he began, but was cut off when the shorter male grabbed the back of his neck and crushed their lips together. Then just as soon as it had begun, it was over. Demyx stared in disbelief at the upturned corners of the other's lips as he raised his hand in a quick wave.

"See you around, Demyx. I do hope you remember me next time," he said before turning towards the exit.

Demyx watched Zexion's retreating form for a moment before scratching his head. His eyebrows furrowed as he wondered what he had meant, but he shrugged it off. He'd just been kissed by a sexy English professor, and if he played his cards right it could totally happen again in the near future. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled napkin with the other man's phone number on it. He smiled to himself before putting it away again, whistling a happy tune as he walked away.

* * *

I swear I had the idea for this before that George Clooney movie "Up In The Air" came out. That's how old this chapter is, ha ha.

~NS


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